Furnishing History: Curating Authenticity at Versailles
Written by Margaux Shraiman
Edited by Gabby Marcuzzi Herie
In 2009, the respected antique dealers Laurent Kraemer and Bill Pallot sold a set of four medallion back chairs to the Palace of Versailles for €1.7 million, claiming they were Louis Delanois originals (see fig. 1).[1] The palace’s spokespeople stated in a press release that the chairs are “national treasures” and were among a set of thirteen created for the private chambers of the countess du Barry, Louis XV’s last mistress. Over the last twenty years, the palace has acquired ten of the original chairs from the set, as well as a known nineteenth-century replica.[2] The French art fraud office now suspects at least two of the chairs may be copies, due to a tip from another French antiques dealer, Charles Hooreman, an expert in eighteenth-century chairs, and has been investigating the pair since 2012.[3] Because furniture-making and carpentry techniques underwent very few changes up until World War II, it can be difficult to differentiate true antiques from more recent pieces and from outright forgeries.[4] The Kramer Gallery, which has been a mainstay in the antiques market since 1875, adamantly denied the accusations, saying they “have never have sold something we had doubts on.”[5] Since 2012, this story has been propagated by the media throughout the world and caused public outrage. If these allegations prove true, the ramifications could cause the ruin of France’s antique furniture market and could bring severe consequences to the careers of a string of museum curators and even government ministers.
Fig. 1: A chair made by Louis Delanois for Louis XV’s mistress Madame du Barry. Courtesy of Versailles.
The forgery scandal illuminates problems endemic to public art institutions, as well as the larger world of collecting and connoisseurship. Interestingly however, even if these chairs prove authentic, the experience of history that visitors participate in at the palace is inherently inauthentic. The Palace as it can be seen today is a product of curation, and a very large portion of the decor found there today was never there during its use as a residence. The public’s visceral reaction to the forged chairs can be attributed to several factors, both economic and socio-political. People clearly are rightfully upset due to the perceived misallocation of public funds. However, perhaps people are also upset because this shatters the illusion of Versailles–– because it changes the logic of Versailles to something akin to fiction. This scandal broke the bonds of trust between cultural institutions and the general public, for whom they are supposedly intended, and by whom they are funded. The transformation of the residence into a museum starting in the nineteenth century has brought such questions to the forefront, especially those concerning the acquisition of art and decorative objects. These acquisitions have not always gone smoothly, and there have been instances of artifacts being historically inconsistent and even forgeries being acquired accidentally.
The problem with the terms “original” or “authentic” when discussing the furnishings and layout of the palace is that it was and still is continually evolving to accommodate its inhabitants. Rooms changed functions and the decor was never permanent, sometimes even changing with the seasons. So how do we define “original” in reference to the decor of Versailles? Is it the decor during Louis XIV’s reign (1643-1715)? Louis XVI’s (1774–92) ? Or is capturing other parts of history, such as the Revolution or the Napoleonic era, more valuable? Furthermore, why does authenticity matter? How do different visions of authenticity change depending on context and on who is making the decision?
In my paper I will analyze the curatorial decisions made when curating a royal residence and political building. At Versailles, the problem is not just a historical one: political issues are at the heart of the curatorial process, dating back to the revolutionary rupture at the end of the eighteenth century. The curatorial problem of Versailles lies in cultural heritage: how does one present to the public of today, the history of the palace through its furnishings? I will explore the issues surrounding the term and concept of ‘authenticity’ in the Versailles context through the example of the forgery scandal of 2009. This paper will contend that the importance surrounding the authenticity of art and artefacts in the specific case of Versailles is directly linked to its complex history and identity as a royal residence, seat of power, public institution, and museum. It is not supposed to be a reconstitution of history, but rather an authentic lieu de mémoire. I will discuss what these forgeries reveal about the overall curatorial narrative of Versailles, which has its roots in the original transformation of the palace from residence to museum: the immediate aftermath of the French Revolution.
Fig. 2: A suite of four Louis XVI gilt- walnut armchairs stamped by Louis Delanois that sold at Christie's Paris in 2015.
The Palace of Versailles: A Brief History
Versailles is emblematic of French history: it has been the site of political intrigue, cultural creation, revolution, and diplomatic negotiations (fig. 3). It has withstood the test of time even as dynasties, empires and revolutions have come and gone. Today it is a museum, and yet it still retains its symbolic power. The palace is a living breathing organism: even in the present it continues to grow and evolve. Its mazes of passages and rooms have been constantly in flux since the beginning. There is hardly a room which has retained its original function. As the palace exchanged hands and the estate changed in functionality, so did the rooms: bedrooms became sitting rooms, hallways became galleries, rooms were divided into two, new floors were added in order to accommodate increasing numbers of people and to improve the privacy of the royal family.
Although Versailles only temporarily played a central role in the history of France, whereas Paris has consistently represented the political and cultural center of the country since the Middle Ages, this era of French history was so formative that the palace signifies more than merely a lieu de mémoire, or place of memory.This concept, coined by French historian Pierre Nora, relates to “places, sites, causes—in three senses—material, symbolic and functional.”[6] Specifically, “the absolutist system of government introduced by Louis XIV which raised this insignificant country seat to a center of power and illuminated all of Europe with...[its] splendor...has left its imprint upon the current administration of the country in the principle of the centralization of socio-political and cultural activity.”[7] The palace is still relevant to post-revolutionary and current French political projects because it not only serves to outwardly communicate French might as a nation, but also because it has continuously served as a political core. Still today the palace hosts significant political events such as meetings of the Assemblée nationale, and diplomatic gatherings, including a press conference with Russian President Vladimir Putin in June of 2017.
The luxury market is a fluctuating one––highly competitive and a source of substantial profits––yet it is fragile due to its intrinsic link to the ephemeral tastes of fashion. Despite this, supported by the circulation of secondhand objects, the luxury market survived even the darkest days of the Terror (September 5, 1793 – July 28, 1794).[8] The Revolution, far from encouraging market segmentation as promised by revolutionary rhetoric, actually increased the fluidity of the market due to “the disorganisation of the market, auction sales, or even the violent confiscation of goods.’”[9] This is a fundamental paradox: a new regime that supposedly abolished the non egalitarian ideology of the old world order appears to have helped strengthen traditional values and luxury. At the height of the political crisis spanning from 1793 to 1794, sales of furniture and decoration soared.[10] As the Revolution swept across the country, merchants and retailers continued to handle luxury goods, ones which were mainly confiscated from the aristocracy during the Terror. Although the Parisian consumer market had changed with the emigration and decimation of its aristocratic clientele, luxury merchants now sold mainly to the new bourgeois revolutionary elite and, most importantly, to foreign collectors.[11] Ironically, the new egalitarian political ideologies helped to maintain hierarchies and traditional consumption practices. The impacts from this period are still felt today as Versailles’ curatorial department struggles to track down and re-acquire pieces from the palace’s pre-revolutionary collection which were auctioned off around the globe or put in the custody of the Musée du Louvre, which was also transitioned into a museum during this period.
Versailles is an interesting case study because it was transitioned from its standing as a royal residence and seat of power into a cultural institution right on the cusp of the conception of the modern public museum. As such it reflects the evolution of museological thought. It retains vestiges of antiquated modes of thinking while simultaneously lying on the forefront of modern museological discourse, as it is one of France’s largest public cultural institutions alongside the Louvre. Upon his coronation in 1830, Louis Philippe, the Citizen King, never thought of taking up residence in Versailles. His decision in 1833 to transform the residential palace into a historical museum went beyond the previous revolutionary ambitions for the site which had simply envisioned the building as a monument to a bygone feudal era.[12]
Fig. 3: Thomas Garnier, “View of the Palace from the Parterre.” Château De Versailles , Versailles, France.
The conception of a museum that Louis Philippe implemented at Versailles is completely different from the modern understanding of such institutions. Louis’ novel vision was demonstratedin how "he sought to assemble events" instead of "simply [putting] valuable objects on public view"; this "selection and form of representation [was] surely subordinated to his political intentions."[13] The late eighteenth century conception of history differed from the one we have today, as “the past was not an object of research but rather...served as a political argument.”[14] The historical museum of Versailles was a lieu de mémoire in which past heroism were employed to uphold the current political program.
The transformation of Versailles into a museum, and its curation as such, since its inception under King Louis Philippe has been informed by, and manipulated to tell a particular historical narrative. This can be seen in the project of the Galerie des Batailles, effectuated between 1833-1837. The gallery, which occupies almost the entirety of the first floor of l’Aile du Midi, was constructed in the place of apartments which were occupied during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries by the likes of le duc d’Orléans, and la dauphine.[15] The image of history that Louis Philippe conveyed in the gallery’s monumental painting series was designed to show the glory of the nation by showing its historical precedent.[16] As the visitor approaches his museum, they are greeted with an inscription that reads “À toutes les gloires de la France”, “to all the glories of France”. The sequence of paintings emphasize the close relationship between people and ruler in the history of France: specific past occurrences were selected and brought to view in particular ways in order to justify current political conditions.[17] The history museum appealed to the citizens’ sense of community by portraying heroic leaders in the midst of their subjects: soldiers and common citizens alike. Even though the majority of citizens suffered during the Age of Absolutism, Versailles now belonged to everyone.
Versailles: A Symbol
After the departure of of Louis XVI in spring of 1789, the palace was threatened with demolition. However this initiative was very unpopular, because the edifice had become recognized by the people as a monument, due to its symbolic aura rather than its artistic merit.[18] Versailles represents not only absolutism, but also its downfall, and the beginning of a new epoch. It is not just a commemorative site for royalists – it also functions as the site of the “oath of the tennis court”, the historical act which ushered in the new age of emancipation.[19] To this day, the palace of Versailles embodies the epitome of human achievement and possibility for growth and beauty. Yet it also exemplifies human greed, violence and tyranny: a luxurious palace built in a country suffering from famines and epidemics.
Visiting Versailles today, we expect to be immersed in the lifestyle led by the Sun King and his successors. Yet, Versailles also draws its strength from the politicized history embodied in Louis Philippe’s museum which allows us to situate the July Monarchy in its historical context, even if it erased the older apartments located in that part of the palace in its construction. This illustrates that when discussing the curation of a building with such a rich and movemented history, older is not necessarily more authentic or valuable. When curating and preserving a building of such historical significance and complexity, it is impossible to preserve every aspect of its historicity. In order to display a physical room at a certain point in time, one has to erase all which preceded and succeeded it. Versailles as an institution deals with this particular problem by exposing visitors to reconstitutions of the palace at various points in its history, through diverse mediums including architectural models and illustrations, historical paintings, videos and more.
Curation: Then and Now
In order to discuss the implications of forgery on the institution of the museum, specifically in such a historical and prestigious establishment as Versailles, it is important to consider the roles and limitations of the curators, and the French cultural bureaucracy which makes the acquisitional decisions. The curatorial profession in France is currently undergoing deep changes due to rapid expansion with an increase in both the number of available positions and the public funds dedicated to culture. Additionally there has been a widening of recruitment criteria since the creation of a ‘concours’ accessible to anyone with a university degree, as well as the traditional recruitment by the École du Louvre.[20] Finally, there have been changes in the division of labour due to the increasing specialization of the various categories of curators.[21] The role of a curator in France is characterized by discursivity: the ability to communicate the core ideas of an exhibition not only in the brochures, signs and catalogues, but also in their own published research. Curators are confronted with the paradoxical dilemma of investing in selections that are at once reflective of the curator’s own tastes and of collective values, as certified by formal procedures.[22] Curatorial activities––including acquiring, circulating and exposing art or artefacts––carry inherent risk, which reinforces the tendency towards the erasure of the person in the post, in order to minimize the risk of error. They expose themselves and their work to public scrutiny either materially, by hanging, framing, and spatially organizing the work, or symbolically, through the documentation, analysis, cataloguing of art (Greenberg, 167). Modern, universally accepted principles of good curatorial and conservation practice, and indeed much wider concepts of good museum policy and practice, were not instinctive, but rather began to be developed in early nineteenth century Europe. Much of what the museum profession worldwide today regards as fundamental truths concerning professional ethics and practice are the result of debates central to the Revolution and First Republic.[23] For example, Jacques-Louis David’s organizational strategies in the Louvre pioneered the chronological and thematic organization of art historical collections.[24]
The palace as we see it today is the product of the work of generations of curators who pieced together collections of furniture which resemble, with as much accuracy as possible, those which stood there before the Revolution. Each room, from the curtains to the footstools, is the product of complex decisions taken to determine the era they seek to emulate––should the room appear as it was under Louis XIV or Louis XVI (fig. 4)? Even apparently simple decisions involve multiple and conflicting views on historical, aesthetic and pedagogical issues. Most visitors are not aware the large majority of artifacts present there today were not the original ones. Only a few objects such as King Louis XV’s famous cylinder desk and his astronomical clock were saved from the revolutionary auction block due to their pricelessness and historical significance.
Fig. 4: Thomas Garnier, “Madame Victoire’s Private Chamber.”Château De Versailles, Versailles, France.
The Multiple Publics of Versailles
The reason why Versailles preserves its power of attraction is a nuanced due to its multiple publics. The splendour of the royal palace and the plethora of artistic treasures it contains are only part of the answer. For foreign visitors, the draw of Versailles stems from its reputation as one of the most luxurious and decadent courts of the world during the period of Louis XIV to Louis XVI.However, for the French public, which accounts for the vast majority of visitors to the palace, Versailles embodies more than just a tourist attraction. It represents to “each individual, in his own way, his own political conviction.”[25]Another notable public at Versailles is the curatorial and scholarly elite. These are the experts that make the decisions regarding acquisitions, exhibitions, and decor. They are in charge of the education and communications regarding the Palace’s history, architecture and collections with the public. The multiple publics of Versailles affect the curatorial decisions on everything from the signage and the acquisitions, to the contemporary art exhibitions held in order to maximize the appeal to people from each distinct group. However the Palace’s administration prioritizes the experience of the French public.
Defining Authenticity
The Kraemer and Pallot scandal created a crisis of trust between the public and the scholarly ‘experts’. It is a clear conflict in the politics of expertise. How can the average taxpayer be assured their money is not going into the pockets of crooks? What happens when the experts are wrong, or worse, deceitful? After all, it is impossible for anyone to tell the difference between an authentic and forged chair without being trained in the restoration of eighteenth century furniture. How can we be sure any of the furniture in the palace is authentic? Until the Second World War, most workshops used the same techniques, materials and tools as those of the time. If a piece of furniture was made properly, there is very little chance of being detected as fake.[26] Expert forgers use eighteenth-century tools and techniques and have easy access to eighteenth-century wood. They are even “known to sprinkle dust from churches dating back to the right period to cover their tracks.”[27] So what makes the authentic chairs more valuable than the forgeries? Defining authenticity in this context is tricky: the word itself means real or actual, but when applied to the historical collection of Versailles, authenticity is partly comprised of approximations without detracting from its value. Not only are these chairs antique, as well valuable examples of fine craftsmanship, design and finesse, these specific chairs are more valuable than others made at the same time by similar artisans because these chairs are specific to a time and place in history that people are more attached to. These are chairs that were sat in by historically significant characters during historically significant moments.
Since the Second World War, the scholarly discourse surrounding art history has largely shifted away from ‘authentication’ and instead focussed on ‘provenance’. The aftermath of the Nazi pillaging of mainly Jewish art collections brought into question ideas concerning the ownership of art, especially regarding masterpieces of historical and cultural import. The process of seizing of cultural property during the Revolution is comparable with the Nazi looting of Jewish effects, although our historical distance from those events shifts the discussion away from ownership and towards historicity. In both cases historians are still attempting to restore the cultural property where is ‘rightly’ belongs. This problem is complicated by the very terms of the debate, since ownership is itself is a “semi-transient category, as well as a capitalist one.”[28] In Versailles’ specific case, it is further tangled by the fact that the diaspora of its contents is due to a proletariat revolt against the tyranny and abuses committed by the aristocratic class. The French citizens took back what they saw as rightfully theirs: the luxurious products of their labour and tax dollars. Furthermore, when discussing the provenance of cultural artefacts, especially from centuries ago, the problem is the “difficulty of identifying the continuity from past to present that substantiates claims for objects to be returned.”[29]Versailles’ curatorial acquisitions process thus requires obtaining artifacts through purchases as opposed to legal procedures to prove provenance.
Fig. 5: Christian Milet, “Galerie des Glaces: vue générale, torchères,” Château De Versailles, Versailles, France.
Conclusion
We have seen that the Palace of Versailles is a symbol, yet it goes beyond that: it is a historical reality. If it was just a symbol, then having inauthentic furniture would not be problematic, similarly to the historical reenactment tourist attractions like Colonial Williamsburg. Colonial Williamsburg is a private ‘living-history museum’ in Virginia, USA, which presents exhibits of dozens of restored or replicated historical buildings from the colonial and Revolutionary era, and employees work and wear historical dress, sometimes even using colonial grammar. When visitors go into a place such as this, they do not have the same expectations of perfect authenticity as they do for Versailles due to its status as a lieu de mémoire. They accept the illusion. However, the majority is not aware that a large number of the items displayed at Versailles are either pieces created during the time period by artisans commissioned for similar objects which never actually belonged in the palace, but rather in other aristocratic edifices or they are replicas entirely. One notable example is that many of the famous artifacts on display in the galerie des glaces, or Hall of Mirrors, including many of the Torchères (fig. 6), are in fact replicas. However, the vast majority of the public is not aware of this, and as it is not an advertised fact, only experts are privy to this information. The public will not be able to tell the difference without the aid of specialists. So how does this differ from acquiring forged chairs? It is primarily an economic question. If the curators had been aware of their authenticity, their value would have been diminished for historical reasons. Replicas have a different value, they allow for access to historical reality but they are diminished in value because they are not the actual objects themselves. Curators used replicas in the Hall of Mirrors due to it being a highly trafficked zone, I myself shooed many children away from touching the furnishings before learning they were replicas.
In order to fully understand the implications of the forgery scandal and the questions of authenticity it elicits, it is important to understand the socio-political context and symbolic nature of Versailles’ identity, in its simultaneous capacity as a former royal residence, a seat of power, a public institution and a cultural museum. This scandal is particularly problematic, due to and not in spite of the complex history and status of Versailles as a political symbol and a museum. The central duties of a public cultural institution are acquiring, preserving, exhibiting and promoting the cultural heritage and furthering knowledge. Inherent in this, is public’s trust of both the museum's accessibility and responsible acquisitions. The forgery scandal called to question the authenticity of a lieu de mémoire central to the French national identity and broke the trust between cultural institutions and the experts who run them, and their public.
endnotes
[1]Emmanuel Fansten, “Trafic D'art : Les Fausses Chaises Qui Valaient 3 Millions,” Libération.fr, September 2, 2016. [2]Sarah Cascone, “Chair Forgery Scandal Strikes Versailles,” Artnet News, October 17, 2016. [3]Cascone, “Chair Forgery.” [4]Cascone, “Chair Forgery.” [5]Lorena Muñoz-Alonso, “Gallery Pulls Out from Biennale Des Antiquaires.” Artnet News, September 7, 2016. [6]Pierre Nora, Realms of Memory. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996), 14. [7]Nora, Realms of Memory, 161. [8]Yehuda Cohen, The French: Myths of Revolution (Brighton, England: Sussex Academic Press, 2011),72. [9]Johanna Ilmakunnas, and Jon Stobart.A Taste for Luxury in Early Modern Europe: Display, Acquisition and Boundaries(London: Bloomsbury, 2017),286. [10]Ilmakunnas and Stobart, A Taste for Luxury, 290. [11]Ilmakunnas and Stobart, A Taste for Luxury, 294. [12]Nora, Realms of Memory, 166. [13]Nora, Realms of Memory, 168. [14]Nora, Realms of Memory, 164. [15]“La Galerie Des Batailles,” Le Château De Versailles, Accessed 30 Nov. 2017. www.chateauversailles.fr/decouvrir/domaine/chateau/galerie-batailles. [16]Nora, Realms of Memory, 167. [17]Nora, Realms of Memory, 168. [18]Nora, Realms of Memory, 163. [19]Nora, Realms of Memory, 166-167. [20]Reesa Greenberg, Bruce W. Ferguson, and Sandy Nairne. Thinking About Exhibitions (London: Routledge, 1996), 166. [21]Greenberg, Ferguson and Nairne, Thinking About Exhibitions,166. [22]Greenberg, Ferguson and Nairne, Thinking About Exhibitions,167. [23]Patrick J. Boylan, “Revolutionary France and the Foundation of Modern Museum Management and Curatorial Practice: Part II: David and Vicq D'Azyr, 1792–94,” Museum Management and Curatorship 15, no. 2 (1996): 143, Science Direct. [24]Boylan, “Revolutionary France,” 143. [25]Nora, Realms of Memory, 162. [26]Henry Samuel, “Scandal Strikes Versailles Palace as Police Detain Two Top Art Dealers over 'Fake' Louis XV Chairs.” The Telegraph, June 9, 2016. www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2016/06/09/scandal-strikes-versailles-palace-as-police-detain -two-top-art-d/. [27]Samuel, “Scandal Strikes.” [28]Greenberg, Ferguson and Nairne, Thinking About Exhibitions,145. [29]Greenberg, Ferguson and Nairne, Thinking About Exhibitions,145.